Coping with stressful situations can be a challenge, but I came up with three ways to make it work.

I recently returned from a two-week road trip to Los Angeles and back. My daughter, who has had Lyme Disease for 15 years, decided it was time to try stem cells. She made the appointment, we booked an Air B&B, and headed south down the no-man’s-land of Highway 5. We took a short detour to Paso Robles for an overnight visit to see an old friend, and we arrived at our destination in West LA early in the afternoon.

The Air B&B was nice and clean, but our assigned parking space was tight—so tight that it took several attempts to get into the spot. The first time I parked, I had to crawl over to the passenger side to get out. Every time I parked the car, I held my breath in anticipation of hitting either the wall or the car in the next stall.

Then, there was the steady background beat of the traffic. And the traffic! Our daily commute from the Air B&B to the clinic was 3.5 miles straight down Santa Monica Boulevard to Beverly Hills. On most days, the appointments began at 9:00 and ended at 5:00. Our average commute time was 35 minutes in bumper-to-bumper traffic. How people live this way is beyond my comprehension.

While my daughter was at the clinic, I did the grocery shopping and made us healthy meals. Fortunately, both Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods were close by, and I found a cute coffee shop within walking distance. Even though I had a GPS, not knowing exactly where I was going added to my stress.

I wasn’t surprised by any of this. During our two-week stay, I noticed that my back ached more than usual. At the time, I thought it was from sleeping on a different mattress. In hindsight, I realize that my stress was from the traffic and my fears of getting lost and hitting the wall or another car in my attempt to park.

Sometime during the end of the first week, I figured out three things to help me cope with stress: simplify, pay attention, and remember to breathe and stretch.

I simplified my routine. Most days were as simple as drop off, pick up, buy groceries, and make soup. I had brought work with me, but I did much less than I thought I would.

Whether I was walking or driving, I made an effort to notice my surroundings and look for landmarks. By the time we left, I didn’t have to use the GPS.

I spent at least 30 minutes a day stretching and paying attention to my breath. Not only did that help my back, but it reminded me to be grateful and put my LA experience into perspective.

My daughter was undergoing treatment that had the potential to repair the damage Lyme Disease had caused. The stress of LA was a very small price to pay for a potentially large return.

Jan Fishler, MA, is currently co-authoring a new book, Don’t Stop Now, Making the Most of the Rest of Your Life (DontStopNow.us). She is also the author of Searching for Jane, Finding Myself (An Adoption Memoir), and has written several articles about alternative health and PTSD. You can learn more about Jan at www.JanFishler.net.

May is Lyme Disease Awareness Month. If you know anyone who has Lyme Disease or another tick-borne Illness, you will relate to this story.

It’s been about 15 years since my daughter was bitten by a tick. To say it caused her life to change dramatically is an understatement. At the time, she was 15. She had tested out of high school and was attending community college classes. She was determined to get an Associate of Arts degree before leaving for college. Bright, strong, and adventurous, she had endless options at her fingertips.

How it Started

The tick bite happened while she was on a camping trip with a friend. Previously diagnosed with and recovering from mononucleosis, she felt good enough to be in nature to have some fun.

Several months later, she was still suffering from fatigue. She dragged herself to classes, but frequently complained of brain fog. Some days, her exhaustion was so debilitating that she couldn’t walk across the room. She also suffered from joint pain, severe depression, twitching, inability to sleep, stomach problems, and a host of other mysterious symptoms.

The Diagnosis

She was ultimately diagnosed with Lyme, which was a baby step compared to the herculean efforts required to find a cure. In fact, there is no cure—only remission. For most people, the diagnosis is the start of a treatment journey that is long, arduous, ridiculously expensive, and for many people, relatively ineffective. My daughter is no exception.

It took five years of internet research, inconclusive tests, and doctor visits to finally get a diagnosis of Lyme Disease from a Lyme-literate doctor. By this time, the condition was chronic, and the CDC’s recommended cure of two weeks of antibiotics was a joke.

Some Statistics

In 2007, not much was known about this chronic and debilitating disease that today infects about 300,000 people in the US every year. To put this number into perspective, it is ”1.5 times the number of women diagnosed with breast cancer, and six times the number of people diagnosed with HIV/AIDS each year in the US.” (www.LymeDisease.org)

From traditional allopathic treatments to alternatives such as as homeopathy, acupuncture, chiropractic, and apitherapy, my daughter has tried them all. Oral and IV antibiotics. (She developed sepsis from an infected port.) Several hospitalizations. Handfuls of supplements and IV nutrient therapy. Biological detoxification and ozone therapy. Chelation and heavy metal detoxification. Hormone replacement, nutritional supplementation, and bee sting therapy.

Some treatments have worked better than others, but remission has been far from permanent.

What’s Next

She is now 30 years old, married, and living an hour away from me. Although she experiences severe pain and extreme fatigue on most days, she refuses to give up hope. This Saturday, she will begin a two-week course of treatment at Infusio Beverly Hills. The clinic specializes in Lyme disease treatment, SVF stem cell therapy, and biological cancer treatment therapies. This is not a quick fix. The results can take up to 11 months, but reports have been promising.

The Lyme journey is different for everyone. Ticks carry an arsenal of diseases causing symptoms that often require aggressive and persistent treatment. Education is not only required for prevention but is an integral part of any cure.

Take time to learn about Lyme Disease and other tick-borne illnesses. Understand the pain and suffering that your friends and loved ones might be experiencing as a result. Physically debilitating, Lyme and other related diseases also affect the mind and the emotions. Many people with Lyme look good but feel like sh**.

Jan Fishler, MA, is currently co-authoring a new book, Don’t Stop Now, Making the Most of the Rest of Your Life (DontStopNow.us). She is also the author of Searching for Jane, Finding Myself (An Adoption Memoir), and has written several articles about alternative health and PTSD. You can learn more about Jan at www.JanFishler.net.

The lesson I’m learning right now is that change is inevitable, even thought I might resist it.

Three days a week, I spend some time lifting weights and taking a dance class. Weightlifting is good for muscle tone and strength. Dancing is a great way to burn calories while listening to music.

Leaving the house to exercise also has a social aspect. Because I spend so much time at the computer, going to the gym forces me to change the scenery. In other words, the gym is an important part of my life. It’s where I go to have fun and de-stress.

Like a lot of women at the gym, I’ve been taking Teresa Cull’s classes off and on for about twenty years. Based on our shared interest, we’ve formed an informal community. We might not know the intimate details of each other’s lives, but there’s a camaraderie of kindred spirits.

Lately, I’ve been thinking that the gym and the class have outlived their usefulness.

Because Teresa’s Fit Jam class is so popular (and crowded), the management is now limiting the number of people who can attend. In the past, there have been more than seventy people in the room at times. Now that fire and safety codes are being enforced, the new limit is fifty. While it’s nice to have more room to move, it means that many women who have been coming for years can’t get into the class.

Last Wednesday I was one of them.

The chirpy guy at the desk smiled and said, “I can put you on the wait list.” Let me just say that my reaction was not pleasant. I was angry and upset. Although management has been making people sign in and get a card to enter the class, the reason why was never clear. At no time did I realize that the class size was exceeding the limit set by the fire marshall. Had this been made clear, I would have been much more proactive in making sure to claim my space.

Instead of fuming in silence, I expressed my frustration to the staff. I suggested that an email be sent to other members explaining the reason for the change, but that was never done. I was at a conference on Friday, so yesterday was my first day back at the gym. You can be sure I signed up early the day before. My space was secure, but another regular didn’t get in. Of course, she was upset for the same reason I was.

I’m sure the dust will eventually settle, the people who love the class will make the extra effort required to get in, and others will find something else to do. For now, I’m going to continue going. But if by the end of April my attendance continues to cause stress—which is clearly not the ideal outcome— I have a Plan B.

Plan B: My Option for Change

Put my gym membership on hold (perhaps indefinitely). Go to Jazzercise, which I also love. Hike often—especially now when the wildflowers are out. Work out with free weights at home. Call the gym friends I miss and schedule time for coffee.

Jan Fishler, MA, is currently co-authoring a new book, Don’t Stop Now, Making the Most of the Rest of Your Life (DontStopNow.us). She is also the author of Searching for Jane, Finding Myself (An Adoption Memoir), and has written several articles about alternative health and PTSD. You can learn more about Jan at www.JanFishler.net.

If you are a woman over fifty, you are well aware of the issues regarding bone density.

About five years ago, I had my first bone density test. The results revealed osteopenia in my spine, although my hips were fine. The doctor I was seeing at the time prescribed Boniva, which used to be endorsed by Sally Field. After reading about the drug, I decided that it didn’t sound like something I wanted to take. It’s tough on the esophagus, the stomach, and the bones of the jaw—and I’m simply not a big fan of taking meds in the first place.

I decided that I would continue taking calcium supplements and boost my time in the gym. If my bones continued to weaken, I would agree to go on medication. Since bone density tests are usually recommended once every two years, that’s how long I gave myself to try to change things on my own.

My regimen was as follows:

• 1000-1500 mg of food-based calcium every day
• Two weight-training sessions with a personal trainer per week
• Two spin classes per week
• Short walks (hills included) three to five times a week

After two years, I had my second test. It indicated that everything was within acceptable ranges and I no longer fell into the osteopenia category. Not only didn’t my bones get any worse, they became stronger.

Since then, I’ve added one more spin class to my workout routine and replaced weight-training with Pilates, which is great for the back and core.

Last week, I had a third test, and lo and behold—my bone density has increased even more. I know it seems weird to get excited about improving my bone mass, but this news delights me. This is the only body I have, and I plan to keep it in the best possible shape for as long as I can. If I can manage to do that without taking medication, better still.

Elle Gianforte is an award-winning writer and published author whose work includes non-fiction books on a variety of subjects, including adoption, fashion, food, design, healthcare, and memoir. She is currently co-authoring a new book, Don’t Stop Now, Making the Most of the Rest of Your Life(DontStopNow.us). You can see a complete list of books on her Amazon author page.

I vaguely remember you, oh blessed sleep. You are the one that lulled my teenage body into ten hours of bliss a night. You are the one that defied the caffeine pills I took when cramming for college exams, gently pulling me into your arms no matter how hard I tried to concentrate. You are the one that allowed my world to turn pleasantly black every night throughout my thirties and forties, oblivious to every sound except the cries of a child.

So where the hell are you now?

It’s a sad fact that sleeping through the night is a thing of the past. I can usually fall asleep rather quickly, but my eyes pop open every few hours. Sometimes I manage to return to slumber just by changing position. Other times my brain turns on and shines a bright light on every negative thing that has ever happened in my entire life.

I’m not a fan of meds, so prescription sleeping pills are out of the question. I’ve tried over-the-counter sleep aids (diphenhydramine-based), and although they seem to quiet my brain, they don’t prevent the frequent wake-ups. (And now studies are showing that diphenhydramine can cause cognitive impairment in older adults. Oy.)

A doctor of alternative medicine suggested melatonin, but when I tried it, I had nightmares that bordered on hallucinations. Another medical professional recommended a 20:1 tincture of CBD and THC—and it did absolutely nothing.

I must ultimately be amassing enough hours, because I can function perfectly well during the day. (OK…maybe I yawn a lot.) But it would really be nice to doze off as soon as my head hits the pillow and not return to consciousness until it’s time to wake up.

Do any of you face similar problems? Have you found something that works? I’d love to get your feedback.

Elle Gianforte is an award-winning writer and published author whose work includes non-fiction books on a variety of subjects, including adoption, fashion, food, design, healthcare, and memoir. She is currently co-authoring a new book, Don’t Stop Now, Making the Most of the Rest of Your Life(DontStopNow.us). You can see a complete list of books on her Amazon author page.

Ingrid, the physical therapist I’ve been seeing, keeps suggesting I try a Pilates class. She says Pilates is the best exercise for strengthening the core. Core strength is the path to eliminating back pain.

Core exercises train the muscles in the pelvis, lower back, hips, and abdomen to work together. According to a post on the Mayo Clinic website, “Any exercise that involves the use of your abdominal and back muscles in coordinated fashion counts as a core exercise.”

Twice a week, for the past eight weeks, Ingrid has shown me how to strengthen my core. My back is better. Unless I twist or move too fast, I’m pain free. I no longer have sciatica. Upon her recommendation, I’ve been doing the exercises—twenty reps each, twice a day—and getting great results.

Suck in Your Abs!

Paying close attention to form is essential. Even thought I’ve been strength training and stretching for years, subtle adjustments in my form has made a huge difference. The biggest challenge has been keeping my spine straight and sucking in my abs—all the time. No matter what I’m doing.

According to the little I’ve read about Pilates, I’m already doing some of the basics. With abs sucked in tight and navel drawn toward the spine, I’ve learned how to breathe properly. And, I’ve been using a Pilates ring to strengthen my hip abductor and adductor, and to side-step like a football player. I’m doing the wall chair. Did I mention that my abs are sucked in the entire time?

If I do all the nineteen exercises and stretches Ingrid has prescribed, it takes me about 40 minutes to do one set. I usually do them at the gym, but I have everything I need to do them at home. The essentials include a yoga mat, 2.5-pound ankle weights, 4-pound hand weights, a yoga ring, stretchy bands, and a 10-inch squishy ball.

Exercises to get you started

If you want to check out some Pilates exercises, there are plenty of free online workouts. Here’s one to get you started.

I still have a few sessions of PT left. I’m looking forward to giving Pilates a try.

Jan Fishler, MA, is currently co-authoring a new book, Don’t Stop Now, Making the Most of the Rest of Your Life (DontStopNow.us). She is also the author of Searching for Jane, Finding Myself (An Adoption Memoir), and has written several articles about alternative health and PTSD. You can learn more about Jan at www.JanFishler.net.

No matter what your age, low back pain can rear its ugly head at any time. Whether the result of an accident or injury, physical symptoms can often be a message to pay attention to your body as well as the rest of your life.

Let me begin by dating myself. I’ve been a gym rat since the ’70s when I first stepped into a Jack Lalanne Ladies European Health Spa. My friend Eileen and I were going to San Francisco State, and the health club was right next door. Donned in tights, leotards, leg warmers, and tennis shoes, we decided to check it out. We were hooked.

I’ve belonged to a gym ever since.

Three days a week, I typically spend a couple of hours lifting weights, dancing, stretching, or taking a yoga class. Yay, me! About six months ago, my occasional low back pain turned into a constant source of discomfort. I figured it was stress related, and if I took it easy, it would just go away. The symptoms persisted. At my annual checkup, I mentioned the issue to my doctor and she referred me to physical therapy (PT).

When symptoms flared in the past, I would try deep-tissue massage and chiropractic, but for some reason, PT never occurred to me. Before we began, Ingrid, the physical therapist, asked me several questions. Only then did I realize that the pain originated from a car accident that occurred in 2010. While waiting at a crosswalk, I was rear-ended by a woman who was texting. My car was totaled and so was a portion of my cervical spine: L 3, 4, and 5 to be exact.

After the accident, I saw a chiropractor for several months. Once I was pain free, I put the incident behind me. Now, several years later, my symptoms have returned with a vengeance.

The solution: strengthen my core.

For the past two weeks, I’ve been doing the exercises as assigned, paying attention to my body alignment and tightening my abs. The trick to healing is paying attention to form. This is accomplished by working slowing with slight or light resistance and doing each rep perfectly. I also have to pay attention to how I move and sit throughout the day. Sounds simple enough.

Basically, I’m having to overcome some unconscious habits. Last night, while I was holding a plank (I’m up to 45 seconds now), it occurred to me that so much of what occurs throughout the day is routine and done without much thought. Healing my low back pain requires that I slow down and pay attention. I’m pretty sure it’s a good metaphor for life in general.

My current mantra: Slow Down. Pay Attention.

Where in your life could you benefit by slowing down and paying more attention?

Jan Fishler, MA, is currently co-authoring a new book, Don’t Stop Now, Making the Most of the Rest of Your Life (DontStopNow.us). She is also the author of Searching for Jane, Finding Myself (An Adoption Memoir), and has written several articles about alternative health and PTSD. You can learn more about Jan at www.JanFishler.net.

The following is an excerpt from our upcoming book, Don’t Stop Now: Making the Most of the Rest of Your Life.

Physical health is the foundation of a good life, but for many of us, having and maintaining a healthy body is a challenge. We can change some things—such as diet, alcohol consumption, and exercise—but other things—like osteoarthritis, cataracts, and even some cancers—are part of the aging process.

You’ve heard it before and perhaps you know it from firsthand experience: growing old is no fun at all. There’s no way around the fact that losing some of our physical abilities just plain sucks. While some of the challenges to our bodies are unavoidable, others are clearly our own fault. Your inner track star or cheerleader is now a distant memory, and because you’ve stopped using your body, it’s easy to believe you’ve permanently lost it. If that’s how you think, you’re simply fooling yourself into believing a myth. Even if you’ve been sedentary for years, you can do something about it. It means taking baby steps at first, but eventually—if you get out of your own way—your body will choose health.

In assessing your physical health, you might want to think about your lifestyle.

Can you do most of the things you want to do, or are you limited in some way that is out of your control? If you lost the fifty pounds your doctor has been nagging you about for the past ten years, would it make a difference? Are you getting enough sleep and drinking enough water? What about the long-overdue knee or hip replacement? What’s stopping you?

If you were born with a physical defect such as a bad heart or have a genetic propensity for high cholesterol or diabetes, what’s the reality of your situation? Are you using poor health as an excuse, or are you doing what you want in spite of your circumstances or limitations?

What, exactly, do we mean by physical wellness? We like this definition: “The physical dimension of wellness encourages cardiovascular flexibility and strength and also encourages regular physical activity. Physical development encourages knowledge about food and nutrition and discourages the use of tobacco, drugs, and excessive alcohol consumption. Physical wellness encourages consumption and activities that contribute to high-level wellness, including medical self-care and appropriate use of the medical system.”[1]

Today’s guest post is from our new friend Ramona M. Payne, who offers helpful advice on how to deal with weight loss after 50. Her solutions are simple, sensible, and absolutely doable.

Sometimes we are moving in the right direction, but need some guidelines for when we can stop, slow down, or change course. I have been working on getting into better shape, which seems to require a new approach as I get older. I had experienced creeping weight gain, caused by how I was feeling, what I was eating, and how little I was moving. I am not saying I have it all together right now, but for the last few months, I have been moving things in a better direction. I am slowly losing the extra weight.

I have never been a fan of quick-fix, lose-20-pounds-by-midnight kinds of diets—they don’t work, at least not for me. I realized years ago I have to commit to a lifestyle and better choices to get to a good weight. So for the most part, I don’t start anything I am not committed to continuing. That eliminates a lot of the fad diets. If I know I won’t keep drinking vinegar and spinach water daily, or stop eating after 2:00 in the afternoon, I see no point in starting such a regimen in the first place.

Goals are helpful; I like knowing where I am heading. So when it was time to think about how much I wanted to lose, it was helpful to go back to something I learned years ago, with a slight modification for my own use. I am not trying to get back to the weight I was in my early 20s. But I know there is a place—somewhere between 15 pounds higher than that weight and where I am now—where I could reside quite happily. So, to set myself up for success, I plan my meals, make better food choices, strength train, build endurance with walking and rowing, and improve my flexibility with Pilates. Those are the small, but significant, steps on my journey. Next I had to decide how much I wanted to lose, considering what was a reasonable goal given my age and other factors. I came up with the ABCs for setting my goal and have found it to be a useful way to stay motivated.

A is for acceptable, which means what is the highest weight that I want to accept? Before you feel that I am being self-critical, hear me out. Acceptable does not mean life has no meaning at a higher weight, or that I beat myself up if I don’t hit this number. My acceptable weight is based on a few goals—a desire to feel better, avoid weight-related illness, keep my good numbers where they are, increase my energy levels, and lose a little extra jiggle. My goal is roughly a 10 percent weight loss, although even 5 percent has proven health benefits, depending on where you start. It is not my Sports-Illustrated-will-come-calling weight, because let’s admit it, that ship has sailed and been replaced by a sturdy tugboat. I’m good with that.

B is for balanced, at this weight, lower than my acceptable weight, results will come because I have practiced balance. You need to balance the right healthy food, occasional treats, and activity levels to feel your best. This weight also requires enough self-awareness that I check in with my emotions to make sure I am not eating mindlessly, or when I am not hungry. If I am using food to deal with feelings, then I try to make better decisions the next time. Balance also comes through my perspective on this journey—it is not about perfection, but paying attention to how my mind, body, and spirit respond to the choices I make. This goal is a weight I would be happy to achieve, perhaps not the lowest weight I could be, but a good place for me that is both attainable and sustainable.

C is my comeback weight, or the lowest weight I have been as an older adult—a weight achieved while in balance, healthy, and without being too rigid. It represents a challenge and requires consistency, and I have less leeway with my eating habits than I’d like long-term. As I mentioned earlier, if this is going to be a lifestyle, then I don’t want to start habits I know will be throwaways. That takes too much effort, when I can more easily find the practices I am willing to maintain.

I am using these ABCs to set my goals for weight, but I found that the same approach is helpful in other areas of my life. These three simple targets—acceptable, balanced, and comeback—might be 5-40 pounds from your present weight. Others might find the gaps larger, depending on your personal goals. But I’m not in a rush. I want to learn from the choices I make every day, in this and other parts of my life.

Ramona M. Payne is a writer and author of creative nonfiction and lives in northern Indiana. She is currently working on a collection of essays and considers walking, reading, and Pilates as essential practices for her writing. Her website is ramonapayne.com and she is @RamonaPayne1 on Twitter.